Collecting Memories
by gilraenstar
Summary: Still, his feelings for the ever unemotional Natasha Romanoff would lie dormant before a string of events would awaken them again, bringing confusion and quite a few funny stories to go with it. Interactive Clintasha fic! Review what you want to happen to our favorite spies, and i'll try my best to make it happen! It's up to you! Rated T for safety, but that may change :
1. Prologue

Collecting Memories

~Prologue

Natasha has seen more than her fair share of the world, and often times in a light that would make most shudder. And she gotten through it all with her heart of stone and a grim smile.

Things had changed since Clint Barton had forced himself into her existence and her recruitment at SHIELDs. She had been wary to take up on the archer and his offer at first, but it was that, or death.

So she joined SHIELDs and let her past fall mostly by the way side, and created new memories with the man who had been told to kill her without mercy.

They were irrevocably linked from then on, it seemed. Natasha found she didn't mind having a partner, as long as it happened to be Barton, and never argued about it—at least not after she had gotten over the initial shock and hate of being partnered with such an obtuse and overly sarcastic moron.

It hadn't taken long for them to become inseparable. Natasha always had Clint on her mind as she wondered how he was doing, and Clint always wondered about how Natasha felt behind the emotionless mask.

Yes, Hawkeye really had managed to get stuck her head.

But then again he really hadn't gotten stuck in her mind. He had lodged himself in her heart of stone whether she liked it or not.

Clint has also seen quite a bit more gruesome things than most men his age. He had learned to take all his experiences in stride, and never to make a mistake he had made before.

He did not consider showing mercy to a certain Natasha Romanoff (though that was not truly her name at the time) a mistake, but he most definitely learned from it.

He learned that Russians are not the type to easily give in during a fight. He had decided this after his third sparring session with Tasha, after she had deceived him into thinking she was hurt and then landed him flat on his back with a gun drawn and pointed at his heart. That was also the first time Clint had ever seen the Black Widow smile.

His heart had skipped a beat then, and even when she smiled now, it did the same.

Hawkeye would simply shake the feeling away however, and remind himself that Tasha is his partner, nothing more.

She always said love was for children, didn't she?

And even if he acted like a child sometimes, which certainly did not make him one—no matter how many episodes of Adventure Time he would watch with Tony Stark (and though they normally never got along, it was one passion they found they shared, oddly enough.)

Still, his feelings for the ever unemotional Natasha Romanoff would lie dormant before a string of events would awaken them again, bringing confusion and quite a few funny stories to go with it.

* * *

And this is where you, the reader come in! This is an interactive clintasha fic (as I don't believe I've come across one yet) where you give me a topic, a sentence, or something to go by to write the next chapter! The story doesn't have to be a continuing storyline, but if you want it to be, it will! The more specific you are, the more difficult and fun the challenge is for me, the more unspecific you are, the more fun it is for people to interpret, and for me to come up with complete randomness! Either way suits me, so just go for it, and have fun! There's a good chance that if you give me something good to work with, that your review will be picked as the basis for a chapter!

So, tell me...

What do you want to happen to our favorite spies next?

Love,

gilraenstar :3

P.S. Reviews are key here! (I'm not just trying to be a review whore XD) I want everyone to be involved and have a piece in the creative process, so try! All credit for the prompt/ idea is given to the person who came up with it, I'm jsut here to share some clintasha love!


	2. Chapter 1

_okay, here's the first chapter :) our first prompt came from Hornswaggler, who gave me one that i just couldn't resist :3_

* * *

_Prompt from Hornswaggler_

_I like it. :3 Seems like a fun idea here. I'll see if I can throw ya a vague_  
_one._

_"It's a long way down." She felt her breath hitch a little as he leaned_  
_forward as if trying to confirm that statement._  
_"Yeah, it is."_  
_"You can't go through with this, Barton. You think I don't get it?"_

_...very random. Feel free to paraphrase. XD Look forward to updates!_

* * *

Chapter 1

Natasha had known from the very beginning of the partnership that Clint Barton was a rather reckless and very much so a lucky bastard. She had seen him a hospital bed more times then she could count on her fingers and toes, even if she were to have Banner surgically add another a dozen or two.

She also had known from the very beginning of this mission, that things were a little shady.

Then again, it seems missions always find a way to end badly when it came to them seeming easy and harmless.

"Tasha!" Clint shouts, drawing back another arrow and letting it fly. "Remind me to never come back here. Ever."

Natasha spins around, shooting at someone who got a little too close to Barton.

She was never fond of Brazil and its dense forests. There were too many trees, things to trip on, places where enemies could hide.

And she hates the slimy bugs that seem to crawl from every crack and corner.

"Keep running!" She barks at the archer. He follows her demands without another word from his partner, obviously realizing now wasn't the time for his stupid remarks.

They ran further into the deep forest, trees behind them splintering when bullets grazed them. When they were far enough ahead of their pursuers, Clint screeched to a halt, wildly waving his arms to balance himself as he nearly tipped forward onto his face.

Tasha nearly barreled right into him, barely stopping in time, asking angrily, "Why did you stop?"

Clint merely points down to the hole he almost walked right into.

He grins however, still breathing hard from their run. "Did you ever see Alice in Wonderland?" He asks her.

Nat glances back—the people following after them were having difficulty getting through all the foliage and underbrush. "I hated it. Now let's go." She moves to start running again, but Clint grabs her arm and drags her right back.

"You know as well as I do, we're just going to get caught if we keep running." He starts.

Natasha knows he's trying to butter her up so he can do something stupid.

"You are not jumping, Barton." She says, her voice like ice.

"There's water at the bottom," He argues. "It'll be fine. I think."

"You think!" Nat hisses, swatting his arm. "If that water is only an inch or two deep, you're dead, Clint."

"Well, we don't really have a choice, now do we?" He says simply, pointing back toward the enemies that were clearly gaining on them.

Natasha knows she's been beaten. He's right. There no way they'd be able to get away now, not without doing something crazy to get them to back off.

And this was the sort of crazy they would have to do.

"It's a long way down." She felt her breath hitch a little as he leaned  
forward, as if trying to confirm that statement.  
"Yeah, it is." He agrees, not seeming at all discouraged  
"You can't go through with this, Barton. You think I don't get it?"

"Get what?" He asks curiously, his gray-blue looking bright with excitement.

"Just because we work with the Avengers, does not mean you're invincible." Natasha replies, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.  
Normally that crooked smile would make her heart flutter.

Now it just made Nat want to punch him in the face for being such an insensitive idiot.

Instead she grabs him by the collar and pulls him close, giving him a rough kiss.

He makes a funny sound—the way he always does when she catches him off guard—and stares at her.

"You die, and I'll never talk to you again."

His smile widens. "You got it. I'll yell if it's safe." Clint takes a step back and stares into the deep cave, with what hoped would be about nine feet of water at the bottom.

"Later." He salutes Natasha and graces her with another shit eating grin.

And Clint jumps in.

Nat draws her gun again and fires at the closest of the men, and her heart nearly stops when she hears a large splash, that hopefully meant her partner was safe.

"Jump, Nat!" She hears him shout and she holsters her guns and does just that.

She's free falling for half a second and then she hits the water, and the cold water makes her unable to even think for a second. She swims up to the surface once she looses the initial shock of the freezing water, and gasps.

"Clint!" She shouts, her voice echoing off the walls.

"Right here," He answers, sounding amused. He taps on her shoulder and Natasha flails in the water, almost hitting him through instinct.

He finds this even more amusing. "You don't really like water, do you?"

She snorts, "Not when I don't know what's in the water."

He chuckles but doesn't say anything to make fun of here, instead pointing over to their left, where there seemed to be some source of light. Other than the light provided from the hole they had jumped through, it was rather dark and eerie. "The shore is over there somewhere, I think, so let's go." He dives back under and swims.

"You think." She mutters under her breath. She follows his lead anyways, and is glad to learn he's right as they drag themselves up onto the rocky shore.

Natasha frowns, noting the dark red of blood on his left arm, trailing from his wrist half way up and around his forearm in a jagged line.

"Let me see that." She says, taking his arm before even getting his answer.

"Oh, yeah." He says, looking at the wound indifferently. "I think I might have cut it on one of the rocks when I jumped in…"

Natasha says nothing, but sighs, looking through her now soaked bag for her med kit. It was waterproof, thankfully, and all the supplies were dry and in perfect condition.

"Barton." She says firmly as she dresses the wound.

"What?"

'You're an idiot." She tells him simply.

He smiles again, and her heart skips a beat. "Yes, but I'm your idiot."

Tasha doesn't deny it, and his smile only grows, even though she was being rather rough when it came to his injury. He takes her silence to be that he was correct.

He would always be her idiot.

* * *

_Hope you liked it! review with your ideas for a good oneshot, and your story could be next! :D_

_thanks for reading!_

_love,_

_gilraenstar :)_


	3. Chapter 2

_here we go :) enjoy!_

* * *

_Prompt from ferggirl99_

_Ooh, fun idea. Love the participation! Also, great creativity with the first prompt. Here's one:_

_"Natasha," his eyes widened almost comically, "just walk away. Stand down. You don't have to do this."_

_"Now why do I feel like you're trying to convince yourself, Barton?" she asked, advancing on him with a rare and wicked smile._

* * *

Chapter 2 (part 1)

Amongst the Avengers, there was a certain protocol for pranking and such.

One could not prank a teammate within a week of a mission, nor could they prank them a week after their return (for they usually came back in much worse condition then when they left.)

They learned this after one particularly funny and almost disastrous mission that could have very easily went wrong, if not for the skill of the two master assassins.

Luck was also a contributing factor, though Clint would never admit it.

That day had started simply enough—as the Avengers found the last of their numbers moving into Stark Tower. Clint, who was the last to finally abandon his cramped apartment and join the rest of the team, finally gave into Pepper and her constant questioning. He received his own floor (the one he claimed to have best view, other than the roof of course) and settled in quickly.

It was later that afternoon that things became hectic.

"Give me the damn key!" She yells after Tony, who is smart enough to retreat. "Before I tear your damn face off!"

The two spies were connected by a pair of handcuffs, and Clint was scared that Nat would tear his arm off just to not be stuck with him all day.

"What? Don't you like Hawky?" Tony asks, still giggling maniacally. "It's his fault for calling my handcuffs naughty boy toys."

Natasha whirls to face Clint, who does his best to look innocent, whistling like he didn't hear a word. She glares at him.

"Hey, I was just kidding!" He protests, putting his hands up in surrender. This consequently pulled up Natasha's hand with his, which seemed to make her more upset. "He overreacted." Clint squeaks out, hoping she would go after Tony and not him

She lets out a frustrated sigh. If she knocked him unconscious she'd be stuck with his dead weight all day. Natasha decides to be rational about the situation. "We have a mission tomorrow, Clint. We have to get the key."

"I know, I know…" He mutters. Clint fakes a hurt expression. "I can't really be that bad, can I?"

Natasha doesn't answer right away, and he pouts like a five year old. It's so cute; Nat can feel her stomach do a flip. She curses herself for being pulled in by his antics.

"I knew it, you hate me!" He says dramatically.

She doubles the strength of her glare. "Either way, if we can't get these stupid things off by the end of the night, Fury is going to kill us all."

Natasha walks forward, tugging on the manacles as a way to get Clint to move with her.

He groans and follows after, lagging just to be difficult.

She looks at the clock above the television and frowns. It was already five o'clock, and they had to somehow convince Tony to take the damn things off before the morning.

He refuses.

"Not until you give me a good reason!" He says stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"We have a mission tomorrow, Stark!" Natasha spits out angrily. "We can't go like this!" She tugs on the manacles harshly, and Clint holds back a sound of pain. She seemed to be enjoying making him suffer, that was certain. She yanked on his wrist ever time she got the chance.

"Oh, okay." Tony frowns. That was actually a rather good reason, he had to admit. "But…"

"But, what?" Clint wails. "She's killing me here man!"

"I…didn't make a key…"

Now it's Clint's turn to be enraged. "You made indestructible handcuffs, without a freaking key?!"

"They were prototypes!" Tony says, as if that would explain everything. "I didn't think I would need the key right away."

"How long will it take you to make one?"

"A few hours… at the least… I made it a very hard lock to pick too, so people like you couldn't shanghai your way out." He smirks.

"It takes you a few hours to make a key?" Clint says in disbelief.

"Well, it would normally only take around twenty minutes, but I believe there's a My Little Pony marathon on tonight, sooo…"

*(*)*

Natasha would have threatened to kill Stark, but it would be no use. If they killed him now, how would they ever get the damn cuffs off?

By nine o'clock, the marathon had ended, and Tony finally set off to work on the key, much to everyone's approval.

The entire tower full of people was probably glad.

The constant bickering between Clint and Nat seemed to be getting on the nerves of all the occupants.

He had told them the key would be finished by morning, and that they best try and get some sleep in preparation for the day ahead of them tomorrow.

If looks could kill, Tony would be a smoldering pile of carbon.

Clint gets the feeling he would be in the same state as well, as she glares at him while he struggles to change his shirt for bed.

Natasha stands there impatiently as he twists and turns in a sorry attempt to free himself of the gray tee.

When he finally wriggles out of it, he finds that he can't get it off with his hand trapped by the handcuffs, and he gives up, sighing.

Then Natasha saws through the fabric with a knife, effectively fixing the problem and ruining his shirt.

"Hey," He whines, "I liked that shirt!"

"Too bad." She replies evenly.

It was an awkward night.

Natasha had shoved two large fluffy pillows between them on the large, despite the history they over the years of being crammed into small spaces and sharing hotel rooms, and acting as if they were married.

As long as Clint wasn't going to try something, she didn't care how loud he snored half the time. But if he did try something, she's not sure how she would be able to keep herself in line. The pillows were more for his protection than they were for her.

After maybe an hour of sitting awake, staring at the ceiling, Tasha hears Clint mumbling something that sounded very much like her name in his sleep.

It was very distracting. She would never be able to fall asleep with him moaning and muttering all night.

"Taaaaasha…" He half yells.

"Shuddup." Tasha replies, disgruntled.

He keeps talking incoherently for nearly half an hour, to the point where Nat starts getting angry and whips a pillow around and hits him in the face with it.

Clint jerks awake, flailing to sit upright. The pillow slides down his face and falls in his lap and he glances at Natasha questioningly. "What was that for?"

"Just be quiet." Tasha moans.

He settles back down, still frowning.

"Next time I'll smother you with a pillow instead of hitting you with one." She informs him.

Clint is completely silent the rest of the night.

*(*)*

"Okay, here's the dealio!" Stark says, waving the tiny metal key on a loop around his finger. "I finished the key, as you can tell."

Clint reaches out to grab it, but Tony pulls it back out of reach. "I have an idea—well a dare really—but I'm afraid you two and much too chicken to go with it."

"Just give us the damn key." Natasha hisses, snatching the key and working the lock.

"No, no. Hear me out!" Tony grins. "If you and Birdbrain here can go the entire mission handcuffed together and come back alive, I will deactivate all the camera's in both of your rooms, and limit myself to one hundred words a day."

Natasha freezes.

That was a very tempting offer.

"Natasha,"Clint's eyes widened almost comically. "Just walk away. Stand down. You don't have to do this."  
"Now why do I feel like you're trying to convince yourself, Barton?" she asked, advancing on him with a rare and wicked smile.

"We're in." Nat says, grinning like a fox.

* * *

_okay, don't kill me but i decided i wanted to break this one down into two parts XD When I first got the idea i was like "oh yeah, this'll be a short one"_

_WRONG. The continuation of this will be just as long as this chapter was, and since i wanted to keep this rather oneshotty, i didn't want to make this one six pages, and the rest three. XD_

_thing is with these prompts you guys give me, they are just all so much fun to play with! (I haven't gotten a single bad suggestion yet btw, which makes me very happy!) I like to try and come up with something that isn't predictable, or something the one giving the idea wouldn't suspect ;)_

_so, hopefully, you weren't expecting this._

_I realize Nat might be a bit OOC in this chapter, but i think in this circumstance (where Tony is egging them on and acting like he rules the world) she would act this way and accept the challenge._

_Because we all know we love Clint and Natasha being stuck handcuffed together._

_Love,_

_gilraenstar :3 _

_P.S. READ THIS QUICK! feel free to leave more suggestions! And to be fair I will be picking another prompt to go with the next chapter as well, but it'll keep running with this little plotline. does that make sense? okay not really, but just leave some prompts! It's very much appreciated, and i do consider each and every one before picking!_


	4. Chapter 3

I was originally going to write a second part to the last chapter, but i every single draft I did was rather stupid and i didn't like it XD so I sorta gave up on this for a while. but i am not dead! XD okay, so this prompt was fun, and to be honest it turned out much differnt than i thought it would- Natasha? Sick? this'll be a funny chapter to write! lol nope, it ended up being more fluff than humor, so don't kill me for it! unless you like fluff? tell me i guess! would you prefer fluff or humor? or some sort of crazy mixture of both?

anyways, enough of my blabbing! XD big thanks to the person who wrote this chapter's prompt!

enjoy!

* * *

Prompt from _nsane1_

Followed you here from your other story :) Very nice. How about Natasha sick, Clint caring for her? Can't imagine she would like that too much.

* * *

Chapter 3

Clint had known Natasha for a long time and he had never seen the red head as sick as she was Christmas Eve the year of the battle in New York.

She had avoided the day of decorating and all around cheer, holed up in her room without any explanation as to why she refused to participate. The others considered it to be her lack social skills, but Clint knew that she really had been trying to find a common ground with the rest of the team. She tried to contribute to conversation, voice her opinion once in a while, or maybe on a rare occasion accept Pepper's offer of a shopping spree and girl's night out.

Clint had then decided to find her reasons behind being left out.

He knocks lightly on her door, calling softly, "Tasha?"

She doesn't answer, and that worries him.

"Jarvis?" He speaks a little louder to get the AI's attention.

"Yes Mr. Barton?" Jarvis answers instantly.

"Tasha is in her room, right?" Clint never really had reason to use Jarvis and his all knowing robot eyes.

"Indeed. However, she seems to have a rather high fever, but she refused to let me alert anyone."

Hawkeye sighs, shaking his head. Natasha's sense of independence was one of the only things about her that really got on his nerves.

"Can you unlock the door for me?"

Clint hears a faint click as the AI does so without a word.

The archer lets himself in, opening the door slowly.

Her room is rather blank, with barely anything that one might call personal. She had no picture of her family, or trinkets from her previous life.

She only had what small home warming gifts the rest of the team had given her.

Clint's gift was much simpler than everyone else's, but he would like to think Natasha favored it over the rest. It was just a picture frame with a very old worn picture. The quality had never been very good, but Clint had gotten Tony to clear the image up.

It was just a quick snapshot that Coulson had taken after their return from Budapest. Clint was grinning wildly, looking at down at his partner with bright eyes as she stared back up at him, a genuine smile on her face despite how bruised the pair were. Tasha had come out of it better than Clint had, with only a concussion and a cut under her left eye. Clint had been forced to use crutches after fracturing his ankle from crashing into the side of a glass building. He was covered in cuts from the shattered glass and had a bandage over his right eye.

But despite all these wounds, Natasha still wore the most brilliant of smiles and Clint had the only picture of it in the world. He decided it to be the perfect gift after she said she had no good pictures of them together.

All of these items, minus the red blanket given to her by Steve, sat on her nightstand beside the bed.

Natasha is sprawled across the entire bed, tangled in the red blanket and several quilts. For a second Clint almost can't find her beneath the mountain of fabric.

"Tasha…" He says, walking as quietly as he can.

The redhead mumbles something in Russian, and Clint again curses at himself for not learning the language. For all he knows it could be a death threat she's mumbling.

"Nat." He says again, a little louder. He sits on the side of her bed, a frown pulling at his expression. Clint reaches out and touches her shoulder.

The redhead is in motion like a shot, producing a dagger out from under her pillow and practically tackling Hawkeye. The blade is at his throat and she's now got herself tied around him so he can't move.

"Tasha… it's me." He gulps.

The blade falls away from his neck, and Natasha shrinks away, lying back down.

"Go away…" She says weakly.

Clint ignores her plea and rests the back of his hand on her forehead, feeling just how hot she is.

The first thing he does is try and take a few of her blankets away. She fights him, holding them with a death grip. "Noooo…" She says, sounding so miserable that Clint's heart breaks a little inside. But she needs to cool off, so he takes two of the three away.

"You have to cool off a bit." He explains as she glares. "Do you want something? I can make some soup."

Natasha loves his cooking and he knows it, so he's surprised when she just shakes her head no into her pillow, again telling him to go away.

"How about some tea then?" Nat can never pass up a cup of tea.

She doesn't answer for a while and then she turns to look back. As soon as she goes to say something here face goes pale, and she scrambles to her feet, running to the bathroom.

Clint knows she hates being weak and pretends not to hear her horrible retching in the next room, starting to make her a cup of ginger tea.

When she stumbles back into the kitchen, he shoos her off to bed again and has her sit up so she can drink her tea.

"I hate being sick." She mutters to herself.

"I can tell," Clint says, rather amused by her disgruntled tone and expression.

"Why won't you leeaaaaaaave?" She moans, throwing a pillow at him.

"You're sick," He tells her. "You need someone to take care of you and make sure you don't die or something." Clint chuckles nervously, now thinking he might be the one to die. Natasha never liked being coddled. Why would she be all right with it now?

"I don't want to be treated like a child." She says stubbornly.

"Too late." Clint says with a grin. "Now how about we watch a movie?"

Natasha groans again. "I swear, if you try to make me watch the entire series of Lord of the Rings movies in a row again I'll throttle you."

"No, you can pick this time." He says simply, checking her temperature again. It hadn't decreased, but she hadn't gotten hotter either. And she seemed to be holding the tea down rather well.

"What do you have?" She asks, sinking down in the bed amongst her lonely blanket.

Clint notes how delicate she looks there, with her pale skin contrasting harshly against her red hair.

Natasha was always beautiful, especially when she was fighting and or just being her normal emotionaless self. Barton had never seen her so vulnerable, like a dainty sparrow that had fallen from the nest.

It just makes him want to curl up next to her and make her feel better.

"Anything really." He says, after realizing he had paused a few seconds too long.

"Do you have the dragon movie?" She asks.

Clint struggles to figure out which one she's talking about. "Which one?"

"The one with the boy trying to keep his pet dragon a secret… it was based off a book."

That narrowed it down between two. "Eragon, or How to Train You Dragon?"

"The second one…" She mumbles, too lazy to repeat the long title.

"Yeah, I think Pepper got it sometime ago."

Natasha manages a small smile. "I want to see it. It looks like fun…"

Clint nearly makes a comment on her idea of fun being very much so different but holds his tongue. He was rather fond of living, so he would be quiet and enjoy a simple movie with her. She was sick, so she probably wasn't in her right mind.

Barton retrieved the movie from the top floor without any of the other's seeing him, and was back within five minutes, only to hear that Natasha was once again unable to keep anything down.

He set everything up for the movie and she slumps back on the bed without a word, shivering weakly.

"You still wanna watch this, or do you want to sleep?" He asks, knowing she's probably exhausted.

"No, I'm not really tired." She says holding back a yawn.

"If you say so…"

Clint and Natasha sit together on the bed in front of the flatscreen. They start out with two feet of space separating them, but Natasha gradually slides to her right, until her head rest on the archer's shoulder. She falls asleep maybe half way through, but Clint doesn't turn it off, rather intrigued by the similarities between the movie and how he met Natasha. The kid tried to kill the dragon, but gives it a second chance and they become best friends. Clint had orders to kill Nat, but he offers her a job and now they're the best the agency has.

As the movie ends, Natasha stirs, lifting her head from his shoulder. "It's over?" She says sleepily as the .

"Yeah."

"I missed most of it." She admits sadly. "Was it good?"

Clint thinks about it for a second and finally answers truthfully, "One of the best things I've ever watched in my life."

Natasha doesn't try to hide her surprise as she scoots closer to his warm body. "Really? Why?"

"Because." He says thoughtfully. "It's a story I've seen in real life too, and it made me remember a lot of things and choices I had."

"Ones you regret?"

He shakes his head. "No. The best ones I ever made."

Natasha blinks at him, her green eyes looking deep into his soul. "You're going soft, Barton." She tells him as she once again nestles into his shoulder. Natasha doesn't tell him, but she's glad he came to take care of her.

He doesn't reply, but smiles, glancing back at the picture frame sitting on the bedside table.

"Maybe that's not such a bad thing." She murmurs, pulling her self up just enough to give him a kiss. Natasha would never admit just how much she loves Clint's soft side, but this was as close as it would get.

Clint gives her an amused look before kissing her back, not really caring that he might get sick too now. "Maybe not." He agrees.

Natasha proclaims that night to be the best Christmas Eve of her life.

* * *

_tell me what you think, and be sure to leave a prompt on your way out! much appreciated and have an awesome day!_


	5. Chapter 4

_This prompt was a lot of fun, and i could have made it hilarious, with it involving tony stark, a trained hawk, and video cameras, but i really wanted to go with a slightly sad, yet happy ending sort of tale :) so i did! this was a great prompt so i hope you enjoy! leave your own prompt on your way out- i consider all options!_

* * *

_Prompt from Helena_

_Oh fluff, sweet sweet fluff XD  
How about a chapter where Clint plans something (or just stops spending that much time with her) and Natasha gets jealous because she thinks he has a girlfriend.  
I know it pretty cliché but what can I say? I love fluff and Clintasha :D oh and please keep ON writing (:_

* * *

Chapter 4

Natasha swears she's loosing her mind.

Since when did it matter to her what Clint did with his time? He put plenty of hours into the archery range, or hanging with the guys, or just not being with her in general and it never bothered her before.

Not like it bothered her now.

He disappears only once or twice a week at first, only gone for several hours or less.

Nat didn't pay attention to it at first—after all, Clint had always been a free spirit, and he never enjoyed being tied down like he had been living at SHIELD's headquarters. He could go where he wanted in Stark Tower (as long as he promised not to touch the lab or break anything) and he frequently did so, either practicing his skills or just walking around to walk around without having to worry about clearance issues telling him where he couldn't go.

She begins to worry when he disappears more frequently, and returns looking a little worse for wear, as if he'd been caught in a few fights on his way home.

Still even then she doesn't say a word; just watches when he comes back to the Tower at increasingly late hours, bruised and battered, to fall in bed and sleep for a few hours prior to getting up at five in the morning and repeating it all.

*(*)*

"Someone looks like they fell outta the nest last night." Tony comments one morning.

Clint rolls his eyes at the multi-billionaire. He certainly felt like he fell out of a nest, though he wouldn't tell Stark that.

Natasha walks in as Clint is about to leave with a mug of overly sweet coffee. He freezes, nearly spilling his drinks and calls out quickly.

"Nat, I almost forgot!"

Natasha turns to face him, her slight anger at him never being around any more dissolving with the sound of his voice.

"I was wondering…"

She raises an eyebrow. "Go on…"

"If you could wish for anything, what would it be?" He questions.

Natasha at first questions his reasoning behind it, then deems it unimportant, actually thinking about what he asked.

She knew what she wanted, but it wasn't possible, so why bother telling him that. He probably knew it already anyways. They were very good partners already.

"I don't really have anything in mind, Clint." She says simply, unsure what else would suffice.

"Really?" He seems surprised. The question is in his eyes though, and Natasha knows that he's thinking of the same thing.

Her ledger could never be bleached of that red—so why bother telling him that?

"Really." She says firmly.

Clint shrugs, and the smile returns to his face. "Okay." He says a little too brightly.

Natasha rolls her eyes at him, but the archer ignores it and continues. "I'm leaving on a solo op in a half hour, and I'm not sure when I'll be back."

"All right." She says. "See you when you get back, I guess."

His grin widens.

*(*)*

The first week he was gone weren't all that different than the last month he had seemed to avoid all contact with everyone in the tower. But she slowly starts noticing little things—no one had raided the sheets closet to make a larger nest. His sunglasses sat abandoned on the kitchen counter (no one dared move them for fear of being disemboweled). Stark was forced to watch My Little Pony on his own, much to his dismay.

Pepper was the first one to comment on it however.

"It's weird." She starts out, bringing Natasha out of her thoughts sharply.

"What is?" Natasha asks curiously. Pepper seemed to be the only one able to hold a civil conversation. Other than Barton of course, but even he got a little distracted most the time.

"It's just odd I guess. It's weird not seeing you two together. Even after he was telling me about your birthday coming up next week, I was sure he'd put the mission off until afterwards."

Natasha doesn't bother to hide her surprise. She never remembered her own birthday, much less celebrated it, so why would it matter to Clint? "It probably couldn't wait." She answers.

Pepper shakes her head slowly. "I don't know. Maybe he'll still make it back in time."

Two more weeks pass, and Natasha has to admit she's getting nervous—she pushes it back though, knowing that Clint didn't say exactly when he was getting back and that missions like this could possibly be deep covers.

Another week.

Its just a day before her birthday when she gets the news as she sits in her room reading. The ringing of her phone breaks through what Clint calls her 'book barriers' and she jumps, setting it down on the table prior to snapping it open.

"Widow." She says coldly into her cell.

"_Barton was injured." _Fury says quickly, getting right to the point. He knew very well Nat's hatred of drawing things out. But those words freeze her in place, and her eyes go wide.

"What happened?" She asks, switching the phone to her other ear. Natasha finds the strength to move her legs and gets up, swiftly heading down the hall to Clint's room.

"_Got shot twice on his way to the evac spot. It's not good, but the doc says he's holding steady."_

"Is he at SHIELD?" She asks, getting into Clint's room without a problem. She rummages through his room, grabbing several things he'd probably want, such as a book and a very well hidden sketch book, along with his favorite orange pencil.

"_He is as of now."_

"He awake?" Natasha says, shoving those things into a bag and throwing it over her shoulder.

She can almost hear the tense humor coloring his words when he says, _"Do you think he'd still be here if he was?"_

Nat doesn't laugh, but has to admit it's true.

"I'll be there in ten."

Fury knows it's a thirty minute drive, but he doesn't say anything. "_Drive careful, Romanoff."_

Natasha makes it to headquarters in record time, at 9 minutes and 37 seconds, all but running to the infirmary.

"Barton." She says harshly to the nurse at the front desk.

The lady pales. "Of course, mam… down the hall, second door on the left." She squeaks out, the clipboard she holds shakes with fear.

Natasha stalks down the hall, glaring at all who pass.

Of course, Phil Coulson has already arrived by the time she gets there; the handler sat next to the still archer, looking as if he had been waiting.

"How is he?" She asks.

She knows how bad he looks—she was never fond of all the white, the cleanliness, the awful smell. And Tasha hates how incredibly vulnerable her partner looks. He's so still and small, covered in wire and tubes.

"He's been better." Phil says with a sigh.

Nat catches herself staring at her partner, and wills herself to tear away her gaze.

"He lost a lot of blood, and one of the bullets nicked a lung, so his breathing was tricky for a while, but they got it under control."

"So he'll be okay?" She breathes.

Phil nods, getting up from the uncomfortable plastic chair, his back cracking audibly. "I've been here since they brought him in yesterday… so you can sit with him for a bit."

Natasha doesn't ask why they didn't call her in yesterday, but decides Phil was probably trying to save her some worry.

When the handler leaves, Nat finds herself crawling up onto the hospital bed next to Clint, though she doesn't remember when she got the idea or when her body moved to do so. But she doesn't want to get up, and instead snuggles next to Clint, careful of the wires and tubes.

She doesn't even notice as she starts nodding off, in a shallow sleep until a jerky movement and a moan makes her eye snap open.

"Tasha?" Clint mumbles blearily. He blinks rapidly, as if remembering something of the utmost importance. "Shit!" He gasps out.

"November fourth." Natasha says slowly. Then she glances up toward the clock on the wall, as it displayed that it was half an hour past midnight. "The fifth now." She corrects.

He slumps against his pillow, letting out a frustrated sigh. "Damn. I missed it."

"Missed what?" She asks, her relieve allowing a bit of humor to return to her voice. "The crazy train on its way to the insane asylum? You just got shot, Clint. I think you have a good reason for being late for whatever you're late for."

"Do you seriously not know what yesterday was?" Clint asks in horror, his voice scratchy.

Natasha thinks about it. "It was my birthday, but I don't see how that's very im-."

Barton pulls her back down roughly, and kisses her with what she might describe as a passionate irritation, her words seeming to upset him.

"Don't say it's not important. It's never not important." He says firmly.

"Well, you haven't exactly been around for a while. Even before you left on this stupid mission you were never there."

Clint looks incredibly apologetic and opens his mouth to reply, but stops himself, sighing. He reaches over to the night stand, and reaches for one of the drawers, trying to be careful about his stitches. Barton pulls out something that glittered silver and he hides it in his hand and says, "I can explain, but I'm going to give you your present before I become even later."

Barton take her hand and drops something cold in her palm, weakly closing her fingers over it. "Happy Birthday, Nat." He says with a hazy smile.

She stares down at the thing he had given her, almost unable to understand. The object was a simple locket, but it seemed to have a place far back into Natasha's memories. Like a dream she had forgotten once she had woken up.

Natasha cracks the small locket open, and takes in a sharp breath. She recognized the picture instantly. Her mother and father stood side by side in the black and white photograph, holding a newly born baby with a dark wisp of hair and bright intelligent eyes.

"How did you get this?" She whispers.

"I saw it… in Fury's desk a while back. And I knew it had to be your mothers. So I asked for it."

Tasha looks doubtful. "And he just gave it to you." She says flatly.

"No… He told me I'd have to do some favors for it. That's why… I was always gone. He wanted help with training the new agents. And then he said he'd give it to me once I came back from this mission. And it wasn't a walk in the park." Clint takes a few deep breaths.

Natasha suddenly feels bad about being angry. He was doing all of it for her—just for a measly locket that very well could have belonged to someone else.

She lays back down next to the archer, snuggling into his unwounded side gratefully. "I am sorry for being mad at you." She says softly. "Thank you… this really means a lot to me."

Clint smiles. "I know. That's why I did it."

Natasha can feel herself falling asleep, and mumbles, "I love you, Clint."

His reply sounds like it's miles away as she nods off, finally content. Now, with her best friend and lover safe beside her, she is as peaceful as she could ever be, and ten times happier.

"I love you too, Natasha…"

* * *

_so, what did you think? tell me in a review, and be sure to leave suggestions! i even take anonymus reviews into account! (todays oneshot idea actually did come from an anon, so ya know;) _

_much appreciated! thanks for reading!_

_love,_

_gilraenstar :D_


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